


Bruised

by Haruspex



Category: Team Fortress 2
Genre: Based on a True Story, Daddy Kink, Domestic Discipline, M/M, Spanking, Whipping, he isn't gonna be sitting right for a bit, soldier gets one hell of a sore ass, the ending kind of sucks because I'm tired and lazy don't mind me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-13
Updated: 2018-05-13
Packaged: 2019-05-06 06:04:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,883
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14635623
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Haruspex/pseuds/Haruspex
Summary: -- I have a bruise on my ass the size of Germany right now, and it inspired me to write a brief story about my soldier and my husband's medic, based off of our activities the other day --





	Bruised

 

"Come on, let's get this over with." Medic's tone was stern and unyielding.

Soldier did not answer as he came to kneel on the edge of the bed, lowering his pants and briefs, before obediently lying down across the soft surface of the disheveled pile of blankets and sheets, folding his arms in front of him.

Medic, satisfied that he was sufficiently prepared, wordlessly took the other's whip in hand and swished it back and forth a few times before bringing it down on the two pale hemispheres before him with a loud crack, wasting no time as he fell into a rhythm, laying on stroke after stroke across the lower middle of his backside.

Soldier remained quiet, but figeted noticeably as the same spot was struck repeatedly, his breath momentarily catching in his throat as he repositioned his head to the other side, resting his cheek on his arms in forced silence.  
He always attempted to remain as quiet as possible, not because it was expected of him, but rather, to focus his full attention on the punishment that was being bestowed upon him  
That being said, he wasn't about to openly speak, either, as doing so generally intensified the severity of the swats he received, accompanied by a 'hush', or sometimes a more impolite variant thereof.

Lash after lash rained down on his posterior, and he tried to be still, lest he earn the wrath of his disciplinarian in the process.  
His body was almost uncomfortably stiff, but relaxing was impossible, as any time his muscles even considered the notion, another lash would make him regret the idea entirely.

They'd only just begun, and already his backside was on fire, stinging mercilessly every time the leather met with his tender skin.  
All he could do to comfort himself was to exhale slowly and shakily, shifting his head from side to side periodically as his discomfort grew, finally settling on burying his face into the soft inner flesh of his elbow.

Medic paused momentarily to observe him as he shifted uncomfortably, before continuing without a word, laying on each stroke without hesitation.

The sensation was becoming unbearable quickly as the sting lingered from each successive strike, his skin boiling as a bright, ruddy blush grew deeper across his seat. His flesh almost felt as if it threatened to split if the strokes continued at this pace.

A swift strike to the top of his rear was all it took to make his toes curl, and his back arched just enough for him to involuntarily shift to the side, forcing himself to return to his former position as his lover gave him a few more smarting whacks.

Medic paused, leaning heavily against Soldier's side, one arm draped over his back as he studied the large welt on his left cheek, gently tracing his fingertips over it and earning a flinch from the man beneath him.  
"Do you feel that?" he asked, his tone less than sympathetic.

Soldier swallowed hard before speaking up, his voice a hushed, almost pifitful-sounding shadow of it's normal tenor.  
"Everything hurts so much that it's numb to most of what you're doing at the moment."

"I see. You've got quite the lump here~"

He continued tracing his fingers along the edge of the welt until Soldier flinched, raising a foot in the air subconciously as his body told him to kick in response to the stimulus.

Medic's fingers worked their way up to the end of his spine, gently trailing along the crest of each fleshy mound, pausing to tickle the spot where they met his upper thighs.

Soldier flinched, snickering a bit as he shifted beneath him , resisting the urge to tell him to stop, his lover holding him in place as he teased.  
After a few moments, he straightened up again, setting the whip aside and reaching for an innocuous-looking hairbrush that rested at his side, looking it over as he tightened his grasp about the handle menacingly.

Without warning, he gave the Soldier a good, hard swat right across his welt, watching as he tensed sharply and struggled to be still with each strike that followed.  
His breath was ragged now as he held back whimpers, a part of him almost demanding that he beg for his lover to stop.

Medic continuned to spank him without missing a beat, periodically softening his blows as he came close to the blazing red welt and the bruising that was blooming in around it like a dusky sky following a sunset. 

"Who brought this on you?" he questioned, his tone authoritative as he reminded him why he was in this situation. "It wasn't me."

"It's my fault," Soldier said without hesitation, his voice quieted by the tension in his chest as he tried not to buck with each sharp swat.

"You're right!" Medic replied almost cheerfully, laying the smacks on harder at the admission of fault.

"I'm sorry, daddy," his voice almost cracked as he buried his face firmly against his arm.

"It's fine," was the polite response from Medic as he continued his barrage on Soldier's backside.

The sound of disappointment in his voice won a sniffle from patriot, as his stoic facade began to crumble under the harsh tutoring of the brush.  
He held himself as still as he could, his unsteady breathing giving way to a series of soft sobs as tears pricked in the corners of his eyes, trailing down his cheeks and onto the blankets beneath him. 

"By all means, feel free to make noise," Medic announced as the other flinched particularly sharply at a swat aimed at his wounded area, to which Soldier remained silent, his legs trembling with the urge to move to distract himself from the pain.

The sensation at this point was almost indescribable; the dull, throbbing ache muddled amdist the intense stinging that tore through his burning flesh incessantly now.  
He still lay with quiet anticipation of the next stroke, any urge to plead with him to stop having left entirely now, as he knew that he deserved this, so there was no sense in attempting to end it prematurely.

Each whack made him flinch more visibly as he attempted to hold himself together. This ignited a spark of something truly sadistic within Medic, whom paid special attention to the area he had so gloriously wounded as he went about his work, Soldier's posterior now bearing it like a badge of honor.  
He delivered sharp swats to the same spot back-to-back, only pausing momentarily now and then to allow his lover to react, watching with an unimpressed glower as he'd involuntarily jerk a leg, or squirm to the side as if to avoid the brush, quickly returning to his duties as a disciplinarian once his ward had stopped wriggling.

His sniveling was muffled by his attempt to hide his tears as he laid his arms over the back of his head in an almost defensive manner, lacing his fingers through his pink mohawk, tightening his grip around his own hair with each stroke laid across his swollen backside.

"Did you just laugh?" Medic questioned at the sound of a particularly supressed sob, raising an eyebrow suspiciously.

"No," his lover murmured, his voice low and sullen, despite his best efforts to remain unflappable.

"Good."  
Medic gave him a particularly hard series of swats, the harsh sound of the wood connecting with his abused flesh biting at Soldier's ears, almost making them ring. 

"Which hurts more; the brush or the whip?" Medic asked idly, quite certain he may already know the answer, though sometimes he couldn't tell, as his patriot asked for it more often than the whip itself if one was to be used over the other.

"The brush," he responded quietly, his voice threatening to crack at any moment, tears trailing down his cheeks in slow streams.

"You brought it out, so of course I shall use it liberally," Medic stated matter-of-factly, giving him another round of, now more moderate, smacks with the brush across his seat, peppering a few here and there along the upper crest of his rosy red cheeks.

Satisfied that the brush had carried out it's desired effect, he set it aside once again, retrieving the whip from his side to deliver the final judgement.  
He wasted no time before bringing it down sharply right across the bruise that had enveloped about half of Soldier's left hemisphere, relishing the effect it had as his lover whimpered quietly, his back arching as he resisted the impulse to thrash about like a petulant child.

He did this a few times, before pausing to lean forward and study it, propping himself against his lover as he traced over the firm surface of the welt, pressing against it lightly to test how painful it might be.  
When Soldier flinched and sniffled loudly, he sat back upright with a triumphant smirk, swatting him a few more times across the upper rear with a playful "Pow! Pow! Pow!" before setting aside the whip and crossing his legs, smoothing out his sleeves and reaching down to adjust his high socks, sitting in silence for a moment while his lover lay there sobbing quietly to himself.  
In all actuality, the punishment had only taken around twenty minutes at the most, but it had felt like an eternity to Soldier, whose rear was burning mercilessly even as he lay perfectly still.

After a minute or so that felt like forever, Medic finally spoke up, addressing his lover in an almost sing-song tone. "Does it still hurt?"

A soft "Mm-hmm" was the only reply as his ward attempted to quiet himself.

"It's okay, Princess, I'll give you a hug in a moment."

Medic reached over to the dresser across from him, opening a drawer to put away the brush and whip, before shifting back and forth to loosen his shoulders, and finally, placing two fingers on each end of his mustache and tugging gently upwards, making sure it was still perfectly curly.  
With that, he gently tugged up Soldier's briefs and pants, which illicited a flinch from him as they came to rest across his sore backside, then gently rising and laying himself over his lover in a quiet, warm embrace, draping one arm over his back to gently trace along the Soldier's exposed side.

They lay in total silence, the comforting embrace of his lover putting Soldier at peace, even if the tears continued to flow. He knew he'd have trouble sitting for a while after this, and as much as he didn't look forward to moving from this cozy position he was in, he knew he'd have to face the consequences sooner or later.

"May I roll over?" Soldier asked quietly after a few minutes passed.

"Of course; I though you'd never ask!" Medic said on a lighter note, the sternness in his voice finally fading as his lover rolled onto his side to face him. "I know my face is hideous."

Soldier cracked a smirk, chuckling at the comment before placing a hand over Medic's mouth. "No, you take that back."

Medic laughed and playfully bit his hand, shaking his head no, before he was pulled into a hug, Soldier placing a kiss to his cheek.  
"Thank you for the discipline, daddy."


End file.
